Rebirth
by Midnight.Star1
Summary: It started out with Kirjava's thoughts, until I decided I wished to add more characters. Chapter three is Serafina. Please enjoy.
1. Kirjava

**This fic has a BIG spoiler in it… well, the whole fic's a spoiler for the last book, The Amber Spyglass. Just warning!** But thank you, and enjoy this fic. I wanted to write something for Kirjava, only because I felt she deserved it.  
  
  
  
  
  
It's kind of funny the way things work out sometimes, isn't it? I had never really had conscious thought of being an animal before I left Will on the shores of Death. Never known the heartbreak of separation from the one who is me. Never said it would be easy, now did I?  
  
To think that somewhere, I lay inside him, waiting for the day when I could become a solid shape, my voice known to his ears, my jet colored fur known to his hands. Much later, after we had both said our goodbyes to the ones we loved most, did he tell me about his life before I had been born. I had glimpses of it, but I had not held complete consciousness of it. Like when you grow up, you can't remember many specific events of your early years.  
  
Mother still watches me curiously sometimes, out of the corner of her half- aware eyes she sees a large cat at her son's heels. She has heard my voice; I've sat by her side as Will talks to her. Maybe she longs for a dæmon of her own. Someone to talk to her, comfort her, she would never be isolated. I'm never sure of it, but Will often asks me what I think. I tell him, he's my equal. My companion.  
  
Will, you are my other half. Just like I am yours. We complete each other. The tall boy who is becoming a man, tousled brown hair. The cat next to him whose fur shines like the darkest of nights. I see the funny looks people give at me, the unusually large raven colored cat who sometimes wanders the streets of Oxford, talking to either a boy or a woman. The woman who sees a bird (an alpine chough to be exact) when no one else does. She tells me often of what other people's dæmons would be, and I find it amusing that she can see that.  
  
I have not known a world full of visible dæmons. I wonder if they have already decided their final shapes since the beginning, or if they take a long time as well. All I can remember is light suddenly hurting my eyes, and I blinked harshly, seeing and hearing for the first time on my own. Cool air from the waters near me blew spray onto my cat-shaped body, and I could smell the footprints of many others that had passed the same way to their deaths. But I was not alone. Another dæmon sat across from me, his kind eyes bright with anticipation. But I knew him from Will. Lyra's dæmon.  
  
"…Pantalaimon?" I had whispered, my new voice shaky. He nodded, and I asked him again. "What happened, Pan?" Almost like breathing, could I switch shapes to any animal I could even hope to imagine. I became a stoat like Pan, curling up to his warmth and protectiveness. Betrayal tore my heart apart, and I wept into his reddish-gold fur. Why would my human leave me on these desolate banks? I had never expected birth to be so painful, the knowledge and heartbreak so overwhelming. I cried and cried, wanting to see Will more than anyone else right then.  
  
Reunion is a joyful thing.  
  
"Kirjava," Will calls me to him, and I slide through the flower garden to the wooden bench. It's Midsummer's Day, and we have come to this same garden, same as Lyra's back in her Oxford. In my mind, I can image her, her fingers laced in the glossy coat of the pine marten called Pantalaimon. We have awhile until it's midday, but his thoughts tell me of the golden haired girl he loves so much, just like I love Pan. He had comforted me in my weakest moments, even though he knew the grief of Lyra's betrayal as well.  
  
"Will… are you okay?" I know the answer, my heart feels pain too. His hand wraps around my body, I am pulled gently onto his lap, where he buries his face in my fur, silent. Shadows from the trees around the bench provide some relief from the humidity and heat of this day, although I can feel nothing but grief. It's been a year since our adventures through worlds.  
  
  
  
A faint wail escapes my throat. I do not cry only for Lyra and Pantalaimon. I cry for Will. Our broken heart.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
I hope you liked this, everyone… Please leave a review on it. I really wanted to get to her personality, just cuz I like her so much. Will really needed a dæmon, and Kirjava is just perfect. (Then again, everyone is perfectly matched, I guess.) Thank you all.  
  
~Midnight.Star~ 


	2. Iorek

Hmm… Another chapter, from Iorek's thoughts. **I'm into writing this stuff lately, please "Bear" with me. (Get it?! Get it?! Just kidding, really!) Anyhoo, (Yes I know I make corny jokes. Ask my friends.) Please enjoy this addition, and leave reviews to tell me what you think. ^_^  
  
~Midnight.Star~  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Bears create their own souls. Taking sheets of metal, forming it with diligent and swift claws. Iron, rust, and care of the metal that covers our bodies. The alloy that also hands us our reputation. Loyal? Yes. Brutal? Only when need be. I, along with fellow warriors, have felt more than a few animals go limp under the grasp of our paws. We have thanked the earth for providing us, nature for keeping us. We are the armored bears of the north, fierce fighters, devoted advocates.  
  
But we have the opportunity to be kind. Bears do not kill other bears. There are two bears known to have killed. One is Iofur Rakinson, shameless fool to our kind, one who would give dignity and reality just for a dæmon. The other bear is myself. My paws are forever stained with the blood of an innocent; the drug affected my thinking that night. The only other I have slayed is Iofur, during the vicious battle over kingship, he had his fake armor. I had my own spirit and soul to protect me, wielded from my own passion and dedication.  
  
We don't have dæmons, for one. Whatever would we do with them? Dæmons settle into one shape, whether it be land, water, or air. My people will travel through different worlds, from frozen tundra and snowdrifts bending down to our massive presence, and the sea, where we will become airborne under thick mantles of ice. It would take a miracle such as one the witches hold, the ability to become separated for miles. I, however, prefer to be alone. Bears are not suited for living in large communities or gatherings.  
  
How does one live in solitude? My people are never really alone. They have the sky, the rivers, the living ground underneath their pads. Endless miles of snowdrifts and tundra bring joy to our hearts, ease to our minds. The song of life runs through us all, we only have to stop for a minute to hear it.  
  
I raise my muzzle to the sky. Snowflakes begin to drift down, and my heart lifts with peaceful exultation. More snow will soon follow, and my footprints will disappear. Perhaps I will travel south, and visit Lyra.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Yes, I know it's short, but I just wrote it off of a sudden whim. Please review, I've been thinking about putting up other chapters from other people. Iorek is just so great, he is a wonderful companion. Thank you, and please tell me what you think.  
  
~Midnight.Star~ 


	3. Serafina

Hello again, everybody! I find this very amusing to write, and I'm so pleased with all the reviews. Thank you, really! Not just, "Will! I love you!" and "Lyra! I love you too!" stories… I know it's great stuff, but I felt like something different. ^_^ This chapter will be from Serafina's thoughts.  
  
~Midnight.Star~  
  
P.S. Here you go, tigress247. ^_^  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
I alight on my pine cloud branch into the inviting sky, becoming just another figure in the multitudes of fog that shade the earth. The humans who live on the ground would call this weather cold, but I don't feel anything but the light kiss of the air on my skin. Witches don't feel weather. They feel the song of the earth, the sky, the waters. A river runs underneath me, gurgling across stones rubbed smooth since long ago.  
  
I am the Queen of the Lapland Witches. Serafina Pekkala, the brave leader, the tempting seductress, the loyal friend. Age does not appear to witches until much later in life, Mr. Scoresby jokes by saying I don't look a day over twenty-five. But my eyes are weathered; full of a pain and sorrow that burdens me, a heavy weight on my shoulders. Other races might wonder, I suppose, what it is like to be a witch. It is not just spells and flying through the air. It is longing for your dæmon by your side during the hard times, the shattering pain of loving a human man.  
  
Love. With a bad reputation. Many of my kind do not just give their bodies. We, too, enjoy sensuality and tenderness. But it is all too soon we see our lovers perish, their bodies failing in the fight against time. Recalling our own grandsons sinking towards their own rest, while we still look as young and vital as the day we first met our lovers. The girls born, however, take to the air in flight. Farder Coram… Forgive me.  
  
Heartbreak. All are familiar with the term. Not only through the matter of loving human men, but along with the pain of destiny. Our dæmons, too, have boundaries in the beginning. All do. We leave them in the most forsaken place in this world, whimpering and shivering against the terrible onslaught of anguish and detachment. Only to return to them. Kaisa, I'm so sorry. I don't suppose I'll ever be totally forgiven, and that's alright for now.  
  
I had never known the powers of people in other worlds, for I had never really experienced it. Will Parry, you changed those thoughts. I had never known anyone who kept their dæmons inside them, only to reveal true form when death was chosen over them. Your father revealed his as an osprey, you, as a cat the shade of midnight. Her voice was clear, she asked me for her name. Kirjava, take care of him.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Maybe your heart shall heal someday.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Sorceresses. Feared in the south, held in awe in the north. Their dæmons are predestined with wings, for their companions shall take to the skies with them. The sky is my haven, and I fly fast, hoping to reunite with Kaisa before nightfall.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Tell me what you think, please, minna-san. Thank you for all your reviews, whether they be critical or not. ^_^ And, like in my other HDM story, I'm putting up a challenge. In your review, tell me what you think your dæmon would be (Settled, of course), and what it's name might be. Good luck! I've got Talamir, a fox. ^_~  
  
  
  
  
  
~Midnight.Star~ 


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